CHAPTER XV
Drifting down the Chesapeake at night! What exquisite beauties of earth and sky wrapped the weary voyagers in their embrace, soothing their aching bodies and exhausted nerves! Drifting on the moon-kissed ripples, into the waves of liquid silver slowly changing into gold under the alchemy of the rising sun! In the open glades, stretching away into forests still draped in the morning mists, antlered monarchs of the wilderness led the herd of doe and bounding fawn to the pools of fresh water for their morning bath.
As the barge swung around into the James that morning, the voyagers descried the flag of Saint George, bidding defiance to the Indian as it fluttered in the summer’s breeze from the mast of a ship just ahead.
“Look, there is Newport come again,” said Captain Smith. “Rouse up, Adam; the danger is long past.”
Uttering a hollow groan, Adam raised himself from the bottom of the boat where he had lain since the mad race down the Pamunkey.
“Lord, but I am thankful to see civilization again! If I am forgiven for this exploit, I will never be caught among those devils again; and if I only had a cup of sack, I swear I would feel like a human being once more.”
“How about those vows you made never to swear again, when you fell into that hole?” inquired Smith.
“There were reservations, man; mental reservations. I took care to put them in,” said the now courageous Adam.
With swift strokes they came alongside the English ship and hailed her, and as she slowed down, Captain Newport came to the side and called out to Smith: